No Place for the Traveler to be FaintHearted
by The Unbreakable Snape Fan
Summary: When Tulio, Miguel, Altivo, and Chel leave Eldorado, they have a runin with Cortes's men. Then it's off to Cuba  Miguel and Tulio as slaves and Chel, hidden, as their savior. M later.
1. The Frantic Chase

**Chapter 1: ****The Frantic Chase**

No map, no plan, no problem, right? Well, okay, maybe that was wrong . . . maybe a lack of the first two _did_ end up being a problem, but nothing we couldn't handle. The jungle was so beautiful, like more beautiful than you could ever imagine—just imagine it, and I guarantee you won't have pictured the half of it. There were animals I'd never seen, plants too, and to gaze up into the canopies of trees so tall—it took my breath away. Somewhere along the way, we'd lost the armadillo—I think he got bored. You kind of can't blame him, really.

It was when we were resting, Altivo drinking the stream's water along with the three of us, that we heard a group of men approaching. Tulio shot me a panicked look. Miguel stared in the direction of the sound blankly. "Tulio," I hissed. "Get Miguel and hide in the bushes."

"Chel, take Altivo," Miguel whispered. Tulio and I just looked at him. "Please," he begged. "You can't let Cortés take him back. He's not meant to be a war horse. He's a poodle," he muttered to Tulio, wearing a sad smile. "Come on, Chel. Just in case, you know?"

"I can't let you boys get caught," I said softly, feeling a little panicky myself now. Tulio was contagious that way. I didn't want us all to split up. Something caught in the back of my throat.

"Shut up and take Altivo," said Tulio, his face grave. "We'll find each other again." He didn't look like he believed it. "You'll need him to make any progress anyway. Someone needs to stay with him on the ground." He pressed a kiss to my lips and then stepped back, sliding a shaky hand into one of Miguel's. They carefully helped each other climb a tree, hardly breathing.

"Pig-headed," I muttered to myself as I neared the horse. I didn't know what exactly Cortés and company would do to us, but I knew it wasn't going to be an offer of a hot bath and some tequila—which we all could have used by then, no doubt. I moved quickly and quietly, and led Altivo back through some bushes. My heart was racing, pounding blood through my body so loudly I was sure I would spook Altivo—and as far as I was aware, that's never been easy to do.

Cortés led them. He stopped, sniffed. To tell the truth, I almost peed myself. I curled a hand in Altivo's mane to steady myself as I watched. The horror of the moment was only growing, as a few men followed Cortés onto the scene. The metal of their armor glinted like the eyes of the jaguar Tzekel -Kan had brought to life, lifeless but somehow still malicious. Tools used to aid in tracking down and killing. This armor wasn't worthy of the sunlight reflecting off of it. To shine on them was a waste of the sun's time and energy.

Cortés ordered my boys—my boys!—to come down out of the tree. I leaned against Altivo and suppressed a moan. This was horrible. They had been spotted! The indignity of it all nearly overwhelmed me. Who did this hotshot think he was anyway? No matter what, he was definitely pretty terrifying. I leaned my head against Altivo's side, and I watched. There was no way they could have avoided coming down, that would only create license for the men to use those loud weapons—I'd heard they were very dangerous and very effective, using the power of fire.

"The stowaways," Cortés said in his low voice. Even his voice made me sick to my stomach.

Tulio and Miguel said absolutely nothing, but they sort of had this quiet understanding to act lowly and not even stand up all the way straight. They did make a sort of properly weak picture. It seemed to help their case, if only slightly.

"Where is my horse?"

"It bit me," said Tulio quietly, and Miguel nodded, somber. "And then it ran off and we never saw it again."

"You expect me to believe that?"

"I can show you the mark, if you want," offered Tulio, with a shrug.

"It's a war horse, isn't it? I don't think it liked us," Miguel said absently.

Cortés's lip curled in disgust. "Grab them," he called to some of the men around him. Two awful, metal-clad men took each of them in metal-clad arms. "Search for the horse."

I chewed at a fingernail and waited until a man came close enough. I parted the bushes and batted my eyes, trying to look my most flirtatiously innocent. I waved, and then I coaxed him farther away from the rest of the men. I was almost afraid of the rough scars disfiguring his face, but there was something in his eyes that I couldn't fear. He glanced at the horse, but I put a finger to my lips. When we got far enough away, he asked me if I spoke his language. Obviously, I did, and I nodded.

"Do you like what you see?" I almost surprised myself by asking this. Apparently my mind had kicked in just in time. "You want it?" I finished, feeling a little lame . . . .

He stared at me, but nodded a little.

"It's gonna cost you." Female sexuality, I knew, could be used as a weapon and as a means of trade. I held my breath.

He thought for a moment. He could always just turn me over to Cortés to do who-knows-what to, so why should he listen to me? He looked me over. "The price?" he asked after a long pause.

"I want passage to wherever it is you're going. Just hide me on the ship and make sure no one finds me," I said.

He nodded.

I let out a breath I hadn't known I'd been holding. "I'll stay in this area, climb a tree or something, you know. You show Cortés the horse. Come see me tonight," I added.

He took one last look at my body. He reached out and touched my cheek, at which I flinched. He wasn't really paying that much attention. He moved the hand to his own, rough cheek. He then pointed to a tree, turning back toward Cortés's spot suddenly. "I found the horse!"

I climbed up the tree quickly, and clearly felt the sorrow Miguel displayed as he frowned, turning to Tulio and sighing. Something clicked, and Tulio was frightened that I might be hurt, I think, so I waved, trying to get his attention. Miguel saw me, eyes wide. He nudged Tulio to look up at me in the tree. I smiled sadly, then pulled back quietly toward the trunk so I was out of their sight.

"What are you looking at?" demanded Cortés.

"Tree squirrel!" said Miguel happily. I almost laughed out loud. Miguel was so crazy like that.

"We camp out here for the night, and we set sail in the morning!" Cortés declared.

The man with the scars came back, just as I expected him to. I slid down the tree.


	2. The Crazy Ride

**Chapter 2: ****The Crazy Ride**

He talked to me, the man with the scars (among other things). Practically all night. His name was Hector. He said he was scarred in an accident as a child, when he fell, face-first, into the fireplace. He also said he used to be a fisherman, but when his 3-year-old son fell overboard . . . it never really held the same appeal.

"Aw, I'm sorry."

"Years ago," he murmured into the night air.

"Doesn't make it any better. So, you even have a wife?"

He let out a bark of laughter. "Look at me," he said, pointing to the rough burn scars that covered his face like a mask, still visible in the light of the moon, but not like they'd been earlier in the day.

"What's a guy like you doin' in a place like this?" It was supposed to be rhetorical, but he still answered.

"Trying to forget. I guess . . . ." His voice trailed off as he ran a hand through his grimy hair and then glanced back at me.

"Good luck with that," I said with a smirk, and he laughed. It was a rough sound, like he didn't do it very often, and before I knew it I had opened my arms in silent offering of comfort. He let out a sigh and moved over, melting into the embrace.

"You're a good man, Hector," I teased. His lip quirked and it almost looked like he might laugh again. "You know, where I come from a scar is a symbol of pride." I lifted a hand to his face, tracing the unevenness of it. His eyes were wary and sad, so I held my hand still, just cupping his cheek. "I really don't see what's so bad about these."

He turned away from me, as if he wanted to believe what I'd said, but that hope would be too painful for his battered heart to take. I rubbed soothing circles into his back through his shirt. "You should get back to camp, Hector."

"Yeah."

"So you'll hide me and let me go when we get where we're going—where are we going?"

"Cuba."

"Cuba . . . ." I tested the word out on my tongue. Interesting.

He turned his head to look over his shoulder at me. "What's your name?" he asked.

"Chel."

He turned back around. After a while I heard the evening of his breaths and knew he was sleeping. I waited about half an hour before I woke him gently. "Hector," I said, staring into those deep brown eyes.

He stared at me in reply.

"Gotta get back to the camp," I said.

He yawned, stretching. "I think I should get you to the boat first, don't you?"

I shrugged. "Whatever you think is best."

I smiled to myself as I lay there in the small storage room on the boat. I thought of Tulio, and of Miguel, and of Hector, of how big their hearts were, of how I was glad to have been a part of their lives, if only briefly. I ignored the fact that I didn't have a map, or a plan. Thinking about such things could have brought me to wrenching tears, and I could tell, so I avoided doing that. Things would either fall into place or they wouldn't. I held out a hand and touched the wooden side of a barrel near me, picturing the way Hector's face was, rough to the touch. He couldn't grow facial hair.

"What's a guy like you doin' in a place like this?" I repeated, and drifted off.

* * *

The boat rocked a lot, and I was cramped and it was stuffy. But at least Hector would sneak off to the storeroom every night and bring me something to eat.

"You didn't have to go to all this trouble," I'd tease.

"But, milady," he'd tease right back, "you're the guest of honor."

Although, one night . . . green eyes stared at me from under the rim of the metal helmet. "A_ woman?_" I flinched, sitting up properly. There was something odd about this young man. The young man seemed to get over his shock. "Hector, Hector, you fool," he shook his head. "Well, anyway, take this." He threw me a bottle of some of that alcohol they had on the ship and a few stale rolls.

"Thanks," I said with a smile. The young man didn't return the expression. I grabbed a stale roll and started eating. The young man turned to leave. "Wait!" I called. "So . . . you're a friend of Hector's?"

The young man crossed his arms. "His greatest friend."

"I'm Chel," I said after a moment.

"Miguel," the young man said hesitantly, as if wary of meeting a new person—especially a woman.

"You know," I said after a minute, staring at his face, "I have a friend named Miguel who looks a lot like you. Must be, you know, the eyes." If this surprised this young man, he hid it well. "We only met him a few weeks ago," I continued. "Actually . . . he's on this ship."

"He hid _more_ of you?" this Miguel looked disgusted.

I shook my head with a laugh. "No. He's a prisoner. So is my friend Tulio."

The young man seemed to relax once more.

"Would you . . . ever consider breaking a prisoner out?"

He looked even more disgusted—was that possible? "Eat what I gave you, and do not speak to me again."

"Bye?" I waved tentatively.

He spat on the ground near my leg. I frowned at the back of him as he left. How charming.


	3. Seems Like Eternity

Seems Like Eternity

"You know, second Miguel, I think you have some serious problems," I quipped.

"Yeah, I'll just remember that the next time I come down here for Hector."

"Do you like Hector?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean," I said, "Do you _like _Hector Vega?"

"Keep your voice down!" said the young man coldly. He stepped forward, leaning down to leer, looming over me. "I am a _man_, or had you forgotten?"

"I didn't forget," I said softly.

"Well in Spain, we don't talk about it—or, there are . . . consequences. So you should keep it down a little before I _keep it down for you_."

"So you like Hector?" I smirked softly.

"If you will _shut up_ about it, then, yes, I like Hector."

"Mm . . . okay! You know, you really should tell him."

"You really _are_ insane—you know that, don't you?" There was a small quirk of the lip that showed his amusement.

I waved the claim off with a hand, "Maybe just a little. Maybe Hector likes you too—and if he doesn't, I guarantee he won't tell anyone you do and he won't let things between you get awkward. Hector's a great man."

"The greatest. You . . . _you _don't like him, do you?" He pursed his lips.

"No! I have two men, Miguel and Tulio. I don't need yours!"

"The other prisoners?"

"Yes. You should meet them sometime. I'm sure my company is getting quite old," I teased.

"Maybe I will. Drink up." He handed me another one of those bottles of alcohol.

"Thanks." But the young man didn't seem to be listening. He turned around and left the storage room.

* * *

"So here's the plan, Chel." I woke up to Hector's form standing near me. "We're about to make land. We leave the horse, we take all three prisoners, I go and so does Miguel. We wait until we get to Cuba and they're sold as slaves—any time before that and Cortés will be on our case, I don't have any doubts about that."

"So . . . how do we get the boys?"

"Well I don't know yet . . . I guess we could volunteer to be the ones who bring the men to the plantation. Miguel—my Miguel—says your Miguel doesn't look so good. I'm kind of worried. Because if Miguel worries, then you _know_ something's wrong."

"I'm pretty sure that if we let Miguel and Tulio free, they can con their way into enough money to pay for themselves. Here's an idea: we don't bring them to the plantation at all, but instead have them win something to pay Cortés off to make it look like they were sold."

"I really hope he'll let us be the ones to take them," said Hector seriously.

"Me too."

It wasn't long before their skills in conning were put to use. Miguel seemed pretty out of it, though. It was like the light had left his eyes, and probably his heart. Tulio was quieter than I ever remembered him being, with no witty remarks. He would shoot worried glances at Miguel whenever Miguel was looking away.

It had been a big surprise to see that Tzekel-Kan was one of the prisoners being sold. He didn't look lost and beaten as much as he looked . . . humbled. "This is the old high priest from our village," I said when Second Miguel showed all the prisoners to me.

"Doesn't look much like a priest," said Second Miguel with a snort.

When Miguel first saw Second Miguel, he stared at the young man for quite some time. An unnervingly long time, in my opinion. I decided to keep an eye on Second Miguel, and maybe ask Miguel about him. I hadn't even spoken to Miguel yet. I was afraid to, with the way he looked. Plus, I was the one who got Altivo caught, and he could possibly still be angry with me.

The other soldier who had been sent with us kept his mouth shut for a share of the profits. I guess loyalty to a commander didn't count much where they were from. Or maybe no one truly liked Cortés.

It wasn't about four hours of their playing games later, Miguel and Tulio, that we had enough to pay for their freedom and the silence of the extra soldier. The extra soldier, I didn't bother to find out his name, headed back with the money we supposedly got for selling Miguel, Tzekel, and Tulio.

"So how's it goin', Tzek?" I joked. He looked at me with this blank expression. "That's nice," I said awkwardly before heading over to my boys.

Tulio wrapped his arms around me. "We thought we'd never see you again."

"Same here," I said, "but sometimes it's good to be wrong." I smiled and pulled away from the embrace, looking up at him. "You have Hector and Second Miguel to thank, really. Hector especially."

Tulio glanced at Second Miguel again. "So, who's who?" he asked, though it seemed as if he already knew.

With a suspicious glance at him, I introduced Hector and Second Miguel to the three who had been imprisoned. "This is Hector Vega," I said, giving Hector a pat on the arm, "and this is Miguel . . . ."

"Miguel Romero," said Hector. The look in Tulio's eyes said he had just had some suspicion confirmed.

"You know him?" I asked, looking at Second Miguel again.

"No," he said.

"Uh huh." I frowned slightly.

"Name's familiar though."

"Oh?"

"Miguel's last name is Romero."

"Oh!" I said, then frowning slightly. I turned to Second Miguel. "Odd coincidence, that," I said, placing a hand on my hip. "Do you just go around stealing prisoners' names or something?"

"Maybe," said Second Miguel vaguely. "What's yours?"

"What's your real name, then?" I raised an eyebrow, ignoring the joke.

He chuckled gruffly. "Look, sweetheart, you wouldn't believe me if I told you. It's not your problem."

"Well, anyway," said Hector after a tension-filled moment, "I say we hide out in the forest until Cortés stops searching for his deserters."

"As good a plan as any," I said after a moment.


	4. Down in the Foreign Fields

Down in the Foreign Fields

Tzekel-Kan had been getting used to the fact that his whole world order apparently only extended as far as the broken gates of El Dorado. Perhaps some humans were more slippery and spineless than he had thought. When he came to the realization that Cortés was merely a general, and not a deity, he had not been amused.

Miguel's usual smile was nowhere to be seen; his current smile was faked. It wasn't a hard fact to realize, that the smile was a false one. It didn't reach the devastation in his eyes. He'd exchange a few words with Hector, though he wouldn't speak to Second Miguel or Tzekel-Kan. He didn't talk to me much either. Tulio spoke for him a lot of the time.

"I'm sorry about Altivo, Miguel," I said to him the next morning.

"Look, Chel, we have bigger problems," said Tulio, but he refused to elaborate.

Aside from being shut-off and unsociable, Miguel was also incredibly jumpy. One night when I decided to lie down between Tulio and him, he yelped and sat up.

"Sorry," I murmured. "You alright, Miguel?" It was obvious that he wasn't alright, really, with the way he shivered. Tulio yawned and sat up.

"Look, Chel, this really isn't a good time. Just don't touch him."

I nodded slowly, but it was hard not to be hurt by the fact I was being pushed away in their time of need. I had no clue what was going on until, as I lay next to Hector, trying to think of what could possibly be the matter, I heard Miguel moan in his sleep. It was a terrible, tortured moan and I sat up to peer over Hector's large form. In the slight light of the moon, Miguel tossed and turned.

Tulio woke up shortly after Miguel really started to cry out, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "Miguel," he said, shaking Miguel's shoulder gently. "Miguel, get up."

"Stop it!" Miguel shrieked, curling up into the fetal position. "God, stop it!"

Tulio pulled Miguel up into his arms. "Shh," he said as Miguel flailed. "We're free now. It's just you and me." He pulled the struggling Miguel to his chest and held him until Miguel seemed to come into himself. Miguel started to sob quietly.

"Shh," Tulio repeated. Gently, he began to rock the man in his arms. "We don't want to wake them up."

Too late, really, for that concern; I think the only one still asleep was Hector. Tzekel caught my eye for a split second, and then looked back at the two. I felt a certain protectiveness over their intimate moment being seen by Tzekel-Kan, but decided to ignore it because I'm sure it wasn't his first choice in entertainment either.

"Are you still bleeding?" asked Tulio, reaching a hand down the back of Miguel's pants. Miguel shoved Tulio away from him.

"I'll check," he said, eyes frantic. "Keep your hands to yourself." He slid a hand into the back of his pants, underneath himself, then holding fingertips up to the blue of the moon.

"Let's get you cleaned up," whispered Tulio in a very choked voice. He stood and helped Miguel to his feet. They went toward the stream we'd found earlier. Tzekel stood too and, with a warning glance at me, he went in the opposite direction. I didn't know what to think and were it not for Hector's warm body, and for his slow, calming breaths, I may not have found sleep at all. After all, Miguel had been raped.

* * *

Following him on his way to relieve himself the next morning, I smacked Tulio when he turned to see me.

"Ow!"

"Didn't think I was important enough to be told about what happened to Miguel?"

"I wanted to protect his privacy," said Tulio, rubbing his stinging cheek. "But, of course you're important to him, to both of us. You saved our lives. Or at least our futures."

"So it happened on the ship?" I asked quietly, slipping a hand into one of Tulio's.

Slowly, Tulio nodded. "Yes, it did." The look in his eyes was suddenly haunted.

I gasped. "Oh God, Tulio, you were there, weren't you?"

Tulio shuddered.

"I'm so sorry. I can't even imagine what you must have gone through. Ah man! Oh Tulio, Tulio!" I wrapped my arms around him in a ferocious hug.

"Miguel's the one I'm worried about," said Tulio, pulling away, and I could see the sorrow in his eyes.

"I hate Spain," I spat. "I hate it."

"Chel, that's just Cortés and his men."

"Spain won't even let two men love each other! At least that's what Second Miguel told me. Spain sounds like a terrible place!"

"And El Dorado didn't have a few nuts? What about Tzekel-Kan?"

"We let people love who they wanted to, at least. Don't tell anyone, but Second Miguel thinks he's in love with Hector."

Tulio chuckled softly. "Chel, I wouldn't be worried about the two of them and Spain's laws."

"Are we not going to Spain, then?" I frowned softly in confusion.

"Never mind," said Tulio knowingly.

* * *

"What's that?" I asked Miguel as I returned to our camp site.

Miguel glanced over at Tzekel-Kan, nodded his thanks when he caught the man's eye, and moved to the stream. I followed him, watching him spread some of the salve Tzekel had created over his raw, bruised-looking entrance. "I suppose you figured out what happened," he said gruffly. He looked as if he'd been torn on the inside. He pulled off his shirt and started rubbing the rest into marks from a flogging.

"Here, let me," I said, taking some of the substance from him and reaching the spots he couldn't.

"Thanks."

"No problem. Hey, I really think Tzek is turning around. Well, of course he is, being around people with hearts as big as yours." I pressed a kiss to his shoulder blade. "There, that's better."

He nodded, turning to look at me.

"I love you, Miguel," I said softly, raising a hand to brush at his cheek gently. He smiled softly. "Just don't push me away," I said mock warningly.

"I'll try not to," he said quietly.

* * *

The way First Miguel wouldn't look Second Miguel in the eye was starting to really freak me out. I passed it off as a personality clash at first, but it seemed more personal than even that explanation. They didn't talk more than necessary, and he seemed ashamed to show the young man any weakness. Incredibly ashamed. And I wasn't used to seeing Miguel ashamed about much of anything. I would have to further investigate the matter. 


	5. The Hungry Heart

The Hungry Heart

"Second Miguel likes you," I said as Hector and I went together to hunt something for cooking, as the others got water and firewood. Tulio had even stolen a nice pot.

Hector nearly dropped his gun. "What?"

"Second Miguel. Your Miguel. He likes you. Really likes you."

Hector looked troubled.

"Do you not like men?" I asked him. "Well, that's okay. You'll just have to tell him so." I gave Hector a pat on the arm.

"Well, I like him, but not like that," said Hector. "In fact, I love him. He's the best friend I've ever had, aside from you," he grinned softly at me.

"Then he deserves to be told things can never work out."

* * *

I continued to study Second Miguel. His relationship with Hector didn't really seem to have changed, so I figured Hector hadn't had the heart to tell him he knew of his crush. I decided to confront Miguel about Second Miguel. 

"Was it Second Miguel?"

"Was what?" he asked, a bit startled.

"You know," I said, "was _that _Second Miguel?" I glanced at his backside pointedly.

"No!" he said quickly. "No. Chel, you don't have to worry about Second Miguel."

"Yeah, because he doesn't rape females," I muttered under my breath.

"No, really," said Miguel. "Trust me, he would never do that."

"Then why won't you look him in the eye? You're ashamed to see him!"

"That's entirely different!" insisted Miguel, following me back to the site.

"What's entirely different?" asked Hector, watching the pot as the water started to heat.

Miguel glanced at Second Miguel for a moment. I decided to make my move.

"If you raped Miguel, so help me, in the middle of the night I will cut something vital to a man right off of you."

"Me?!" said Hector, startled and almost spilling the pot.

"No, Second Miguel," I said, pointing accusatorily. "Out with it: What have you done to Miguel?"

"NOTHING!" Miguel insisted again. "Ask Tulio, why don't you?"

Second Miguel merely looked bored. "You'll cut off something vital to a man?"

"Just try me," I said, hands on my hips.

"Well, good luck," said Second Miguel, and without further ado he stripped his pants off to reveal that he actually . . . was a she.

"Rosalba!" cried Miguel, holding his hands in front of his face.

"Sorry, Miguel," said Rosalba with a chuckle, not sounding very sorry at all.

"Oh. Well, uh, I guess I won't be cutting off anything after all," I said a bit lamely.

"Damn right," she said.

"Now do you believe me?" moaned Miguel, his eyes still covered.

"Yes, yes." There was silence for a moment as Rosalba pulled her pants back on with a devilish smirk. "Oh hey, Hector," I said after a moment, "now you don't have to like men."

Hector, blushing from Rosalba's display, said, "Yes, I suppose you're right."

"You told him? You told him?!" Rosalba suddenly looked furious.

"Yeah . . . he loves you, though," I supplied hopefully. "Well . . . we'll just leave you two to talk, won't we, Miguel?"

Miguel nodded and we moved in the direction Tulio and Tzekel had gone.

"So, explain to me who that was," I said carefully.

"My sister, Rosalba."

"Oh," I colored a little. "Well, sorry about that, then."

"Hey, you only did it because you care," he said with a slight smile.

"More than you even know, Miguel," I said, leaning in to kiss his jaw gently.

It wasn't long before we met up with Tzekel and Tulio, carrying dead rabbits and stolen vegetables. "Why didn't you tell me Second Miguel was really our Miguel's sister?"

"I could always lie and say I didn't know, but I've known Rosalba since before I knew Miguel. She's skilled with a sword, tough as nails, and stronger than I am. She always _was_ stronger than I am, come to think of it."

"Not very compassionate, though, is she?"

"Wait . . . you mean to tell me that the second soldier is actually a woman?" Tzekel's lip curled in disgust.

"Hey, buddy, you're the only man wearing a skirt, so let's not talk about what Miguel's sister does or doesn't wear."

"Good point, Tulio," I said with a smile. "Well, we'll help you carry this all back. First off we have to give Hector and Rosalba some time to get 'reacquainted', don't we?"

"That girl gets everything she wants," said Miguel softly with a smile.

"Going to stop being so ashamed now, Miguel?" I asked.

"He doesn't like seeming weak, Chel. Not in front of Rosalba. I think she's grown up since she used to exploit all your weaknesses, though, Miguel."

"Maybe," Miguel said, but he didn't seem completely convinced.


End file.
